


And in the winter night sky ships are sailing looking down on these bright blue city lights

by cutebutpsyco



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lys, Predictions, around 12 years after the end of game of thrones, but it's very unclear what really happened, i don't know how to tag things, i hope it's not too OOC, in the next chapters some characters from the books will show up, jaime/brienne may be hinted, my first attempt to write cersei, post!got
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutebutpsyco/pseuds/cutebutpsyco
Summary: “And what if is your loving brother who wants to know?” She turns toward Qyburn, asking what he’s implying when she realizes it isn’t the estranged Maester’s voice that she heard, but Jaime’s. He’s thinner than Cersei remembers, and a scar runs through his left cheek and, even in the dim light of the moon, she can see that his clothes are filthy. Though the man is Jaime, there, standing on the shore, a soft sea breeze running through his hair.Or, after giving birth to her and Jaime's daughter, Joanna, Cersei is helped by Qyburn lo leave the Red Keep and the last thing she's expecting is Jaime to show up and run with her. He made her promise they'll rise their daughter without trying to use her to win the Iron Throne back, thoug Cersei has different ideas.





	1. preface

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, this is my first fancit for this otp and I don't know how it's even possible. The idea of this comes from a ask meme game from Tumblr and I thank so much Tumblr user lionessonthethrone for having gave me the permission to use it.  
> I was supposed to post this long time ago, but life happened and considering that today is lionessonthethrone's birthday I decided to post this as a present. 
> 
> I have no idea how long this thing will be, I have some chapters already written which just need to be edited, so I hope to be able to update frequently but I have no idea.
> 
> That said, nothing belongs to me, as always, and the title is from King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men.

“Your Grace,” She is more passed out than awake by now, torn by pain, her legs stained in blood, her face a mask of suffering, sweat and tears, though she tries to look at the Hand of the Queen. “You have to leave, as soon as you can stand.”

Which isn’t now. “My baby...?” She asks the man who once was a Maester.

She can hear the wailing of a baby, and that's enough for her to know that the birth went well. She wants to see her child, though. Rapidly, a maid handles her the crying bundle, accomplishing to Cersei's never spoken order. When she sees her, Cersei can’t help but broke into tears.

“Joanna...” She sobs holding her daughter against her chest. 

She’s so beautiful and looks so pure, so innocent. Not for the first time, Cersei wonders how it’s possible to love someone that you don’t even know. She knows Qyburn needs to speak with her, but she can’t help to watch at her daughter and wish for Jaime to be there, at her side, as he had always been, every time she gave birth. She can’t think about Jaime, not right now, not when she is so close to lost everything she has always fight for.   
And she, as well, knows she can’t wait longer. Qyburn is right: the dragon queen and Ned Stark’s bastard may be at north, fighting against the White Walkers -and the idea of Jaime being with them frighten her so bad-, but the moment they will be back, she will be doomed without a second thought. Tyrion’s deal protects only her daughter. She has to leave the throne, even if she would never run otherwise. Though, when she discovered she was with child, she had to make choices, she didn’t even think twice about. Tyrion knew which was the only thing Cersei would have spontaneously gave the throne up for. One of her children’s well-being and safety.

“Tonight... I can’t now...” She whispered, out of strengths. She passes out moments later.

\----

When she wakes some hours later, panic fills her: Joanna isn’t any longer against her breasts, and the only thing she can think about is that someone has stolen her daughter from her, as it happened with Myrcella long time ago. 

The moment she moves on the bed, trying to stand up, though, a maid arrives to explain to her that Qyburn, who had settle arrangements for her and the baby leave the castle, ordered for her to be brought in his chambers once she is up. Her newborn, the maid says immediately, is yet with the Hand and the nurse. Cersei doesn’t even change her clothes, and she reaches her Hand’s chambers were her things, half of her servants and a sleeping Joanna are waiting for her.

“I’ll lead you out of the Red Keep,” Qyburn says, “Most of your things are already on the Myrish ship I’d settled. Keep your hood on until you reach Essos, if you can, don’t use your name, and don’t trust anyone.”

Cersei nods, a tired smile crosses her lips on the Maester’s last words. The Queen doesn’t need to be remembered not to trust people, she never had, that’s how she survived. She can see in Qyburn’s eyes he would like to escape as well, but he’s the Hand of the Queen, and he will stay, protecting the Throne and seating on it. Cersei hopes it will be more comfortable for him that it had been for her, than she remembers that it’s what Robert used to say, and gives the order to bring her out of the Red Keep, forever.

The labyrinth under the Red Keep swallows them while Cersei tries not to lose the sight of Qyburn. She has never been there, below than the Black Cells where traitors are kept, and everything she can think about it’s that the man is trying to bury her. It would be easy, she won’t fight, she is not struggling. 

She holds Joanna closer; her daughter is sleeping, and Cersei envies her. She loses the count of how many corners they turn sooner that she has hoped, but she’s still exhausted for the birth and really hopes the man will succeed in sneaking her out without betraying her. The walls, though, grow every moment narrower and she finds herself seeking for air as a desperate woman.

At some point, close from her to break down, actually, Qyburn stops in front of what looks like a perfectly plain stone wall. Cersei steps back, the idea of him killing her there overwhelms her. She can’t trust anyone, not after that Jaime left her some months ago. Her body starts to shake and only when she feels fresh air on her face she understands. Qyburn has led her to a hidden door at the roots of the cliff on which the Red Keep is situated.   
She can smell the sea through the air coming in from the passageway. She can’t see it in the moonlight but also the other side of the door it’s hidden, covered in rocks as the rest of the cliff.

“From this point on, you and your maids are alone, Your Grace,” Qyburn says keeping the door open for her to pass. The maids rush toward the rowing boat which will lead them to the ship, leaving Cersei with her Hand for some moments. “I wish you every good odd. What do I have to say if someone asks me about you?”

“Tell then I ran, if they are enemies, they will live knowing I’ll want to claim back what belongs to me and tell them I’m recovering from birth if they are friends.” She has considered the idea of faking her death as well, then she realized that in the case she must leave the Lannisters' name, and thought better of it. Also, Tyrion would have asked to see her body, and she had had no time to find someone who could pass for her.

“And what if is your loving brother who wants to know?” She turns toward Qyburn, asking what he’s implying when she realizes it isn’t the estranged Maester’s voice that she heard, but Jaime’s. And when she turns toward the origin of the voice, she finds herself looking at what looks like a ghost: he’s thinner than she remembers, and a scar runs through his left cheek and, even in the dim light of the moon, she can see that his clothes are filthy. Though the man is Jaime, there, standing on the shore, a soft sea breeze running through his hair.

“Jaime,” She whispers, almost not daring to hope he’s real. She thought she would never see him again. “When...? What...? How...?”

She knows that her maids are waiting for her and that she has to hurry but she can’t, she needs to know. Even if knowing will kill her. “The White Walkers...?”

“Qyburn wrote to me when he thought you were going to lose the baby,” He says. It happened shorter after Jaime left, she believed that as well. His eyes run on the bundle she’s holding, and he smiles, softly. “I... couldn’t leave at that moment but...”   
He shakes his head, almost ashamed, and Cersei has no idea of the reason but simply nods. “I fought the wights at the Wall, and I was fighting them when another raven came... I... Qyburn told me of your plan, and it was reckless sending it through raven but...” Cersei has never seen him either short of words or smiles, and she’s worried about what he isn’t telling her. She saw his eyes when he spoke to her about the dragon he fought in the Reach. She pretended she didn’t because back in the day it was more useful for them to win than being concerned about what’s wrong with Jaime, but she did. “There’s no honour in leaving the woman I love. And they needed our armies, not me.”

Though, she knows his choice will haunt him forever. He’s a knight, he will always be one, no matter what. “I came back three days ago. I met Qyburn, and he told me about the details... I wanted to be by your side but...”

“You had to pretend not to be in King's Landing, I get it,” She has no idea why he’s there. It could be either to kill her or to bring her in front of the dragons queen, as far as she knows. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No! Why should I?”

_Because you left me. Because Tyrion isn’t the valonqar, because you are._ She thinks, but he knows nothing about the prophecy. “Because that would be the honourable thing to do. I won’t bend the knee, and I don’t want to die the way Randyll and Dickon Tarly did.”

“I’m not asking you to do it, either,” He says, moving a step forward. Cersei freezes trying not to push him back. “I’d rather spend the rest of my day in a dungeon, than kneeling in front of Daenerys Targaryen,” His voice is bitter, Cersei knows he’s hiding something from her but doesn’t push. “I’m here to do the right thing.”

His eyes run on the rowing boat that it’s waiting for her. “You are here to kill me, so? That’s what our brother would consider the right thing.”

“He wouldn’t,” Cersei knows he’s trying to convince himself as well, Jaime always tried to make the two of them get along, but he can’t be so blinded by the love he feels for both his siblings to think this is still possible. “But not, killing you is not why I’m here. Qyburn would have lie to me if these were my intentions. I’m here to come with you. Wherever you want to go.”

This time is Cersei that is out of words. “Are you...?”

“Serious? Yes, I wouldn’t be there if I wasn’t,” He crocks with a sad smile. “It’s not like I have something else to stay for.”

Cersei can feel the bile rising in her throat, but she has to ask: “That woman from Tarth?”

“Not now... I’ll explain to you everything about what happened in the North, but this is not the time.” Cersei supposes that if he doesn’t want to speak about that right now, she won’t like what he’ll say, but she knows she can’t wait longer before leaving.

“Just... promise me you will tell me the truth.” Since he left, everyone just tried to accomplish whatever she has ordered. Cersei had never thought that would have been frustrating, but she realized that, when someone does everything you say, that very same person is likely trying to stab you in your backs.

Jaime nods. 

“I will. Can I...?” He points at Joanna, moving a step closer, and Cersei can’t deny him this. He always wanted to be a father to their children, but she feared people would have seen the similarities between him and Robert’s heirs. Now she doesn’t have to hide it. Cersei moves closer and handles him their sleeping daughter.

“I called her Joanna,” she whispers. “After mother.”

Jaime caresses the baby’s soft cheek, and Cersei wants to cry all over again. “She’s beautiful.” He says and, for just a moment, they are both in their own world. Then a voice wakes them.

“Your Grace, we have to leave. Now!”

Her brother gives their newborn daughter back to Cersei, and helps her to enter the small boat, and for only a second she fears he won’t go with her, then he vaults inside, and the estranged Queen finds herself pushing against his chest; in an eye beat, Jaime’s arm is around her shoulders, keeping her close. He can feel she’s shivering and sobbing, but says nothing for a while, stroking her hair.

“I’ve never bedded her.” He whispers in her ear, and Cersei finds herself suppressing a hysterical laugh, probably out of relief.   
She perfectly knows who he’s speaking about. Surprisingly, that calms her enough to stop to cry. Brienne of Tarth may not be the Light of the West, but she is younger than Cersei is, her body hasn’t started to decay yet, and she knows this is what men look for in women, Robert took care of let her know about this very well, every time he fucked a whore where she or Jaime could hear. 

A part of her mind suggests to her that he could be lying, or he could have laid with the woman in other ways, but she needs to think he wouldn’t. He and Joanna are everything she has left, and she won’t doubt of him or, at least, she will try.


	2. Chapter I: our names will be written in these lysian skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with the first update to this fic. I want to thank y'all for your feedbacks, they mean a lot to me.  
> Sorry for the waiting, but I had lots of universitty exames this week, next couple of updates will be faster becase I have the chapters ready, hope you will enjoy this. 
> 
> This chapter takes place twelve years after the preface.

Cersei stretches on the bed, rolling on her back and searching with her arm for a body by her side. She doesn’t find it, but she can still feel the warmth which means Jaime isn’t up since long. The idea of her twin brother makes her smile. Her brother, her lover, her husband, the father of Joanna. 

There is a reason why she chooses Lys when they run from King’s Landing, when, just recovering from the birth, Qyburn helped her to her out the Red Keep. She didn’t expect for Jaime to be there after how he left her but when she saw him still on the ship which was supposed to bring her and Joanna whatever she wanted she understood he was really going with her. And that she would have married the man she has loved since she was old enough to understand what love means. 

The Free Cities had been founded by Valyrians, so no-one ever said nothing about marriage between relatives, and Lys had always been the most open-minded among them. They married the very day they finished to bring the gold of Casterly Rock in the Essos. With Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow and every high lord fighting in the North, nobody thought about guarding the gold but for men who once had been loyal to Tywin Lannister. Cersei gave her necklace to the captain of the ship, and that was enough for the guards to understand every order from the man was Cersei Lannister’s one. Good luck in reign a kingdom without the Lannisters’ gold. 

“Good morning,” Jaime says the moment Cersei rises from the bed, her smile still lighting her emerald eyes. She turns in the direction from where the voice comes. Jaime is looking at her, beautiful as ever, his hair a mixture of gold and silver by now but long as he used to bring them back when they were just children. He smiles as well and crow’s feet cracks around his eyes making him look even charmer. 

“What are you doing there?” She asks him, moving her body what is necessary to let the soft sheets uncover her naked breast. Jaime smiles, he knows that if he allows her to roll around in the bed, he'll join her and they'll spend all day long lingering in each other pleasure. Not that he complains but still.

“Enjoying the view.” He answers. Cersei knows she’s no longer the beauty she used to be, the Light of the West as everyone known her when she was a girl and was Robert’s queen. She’s old, that’s the truth, and her body shows each of her namedays. She hates herself for that. _Another will come, younger and more beautiful,_ said her Maggy the Frog. But it hadn’t been just one. She was Margaery Tyrell who took away from her both of her children, she was Sansa Stark who plotted in killing Joffrey, she was Daenerys Targaryen who took away to her the only thing that still mattered.  
Before Joanna, though. She intentionally left the throne and what that represented for her daughter. Maybe the person of the prophecy is Joanna, younger and more beautiful, maybe it's a proof that she is mean to sit on the Iron Throne. It’s not the first time that Cersei thinks about that. 

“How flattering,” She finally gets out the bed. “Seriously, though, what are you doing?” 

He gives her the letter he’s reading. It’s enough for her to see the hand and the lion on the crimson wax to understand. “Does he know?” She asks.

“What?”

“Where we are, what we are doing, about Joanna.” She suspected her brother kept contacts with Tyrion, but now she has the confirmation. She can’t even bother to be angry at him. Not anymore. 

“Read it,” Jaime says, taking her hand and forcing Cersei to sit on his lap. They are both naked, and she pushes herself against Jaime’s crotch feeling him hardener against her pale skin. Again, it’s not like she’s complaining. The estranged queen opens the letter and reads it.  
It’s not addressed to Jaime. It’s a generical warning to the people of Essos about her head for a lordship. And it’s signed by both Tyrion and Daenerys Targaryen. “We might have to find another place. Lys is small, and Joanna is well known.” 

Their daughter, sweet and beautiful, and fierce and wit. She’ll be twelve the next nameday, and she looks as Cersei at her age. Every young and wealthy boy in Lys asked for her hand. Cersei and Jaime refused all of them for two reasons. She would have married the man she loves, and they need her to be virgin for alliances. Cersei shakes her head. 

“A lordship is nothing, against gold. We have powerful friends, here,” She kisses him just because she can. “And then, I love to call you ‘husband’.”

He laughs against her mouth. “You should excuse me if I worry about your head. I like it better when it comes with your body as well, wife.”

She runs a hand through his hair, keeping them away from his face. Once she thought happiness was the power a crown could give her, but now she's no longer sure about that: having lost everything has shown her what really matters. Jaime, and their daughter. Though she doesn’t regret having turned down Ned Stark’s offer, she doesn’t regret nothing. 

“He’s just repaying me the favour.” She says, crumpling the parchment.

“I’m surprised Daenerys doesn’t want to repay me one, too.” 

“What happened to us, Jaime? We used to be the Lion of Lannister and the Light of the West,” she smiles, a sad smile. “What happened to us?”

“I know places where people use way less flattering names for us,” Jaime cracks a smile which is only slightly sincerer than Cersei’s one. “Joffrey killed Ned Stark, and I lost my hand, that happened. Then Joff died, and you set the Temple on fire. And Myrcella, and Tommen… And Euron Greyjoy.” When he says that name his left hand curls around her breast squeezing it, selfishly. “Gods, Cersei! Why Euron Greyjoy?”

She knows why he left when she told him about the Golden Company. It wasn’t to save his honour; it was because with the Golden Company they could have won the war and that meant that she would have married the Greyjoy. He could live in a world where his sister was forced to marry for Tywin’s will and ambition but not in one she married Euron Greyjoy out of her own will. She never answered that question despite him asking it in the past twelve years or so. And she doesn’t even at that moment. 

“Why Brienne of Tarth?” He’d never tell her all the story, but Cersei definitely knows more about it. 

“I never promised to marry her!”

“You couldn’t!”

“I wouldn’t!” He’s screaming by now, his golden hand on Cersei’s hip, claiming the woman for himself. She can feel his hardness and moves a little bit. She’s wet as well, and she would speak about anything else instead of Euron Greyjoy at that moment, but everything she can do is switching lightly against Jaime’s cock, and wishing he joined her in the bed, instead of making that conversation. “I love you. I always have, and I always will. Look at me,” He waits until she does, from the curve of his lips it’s clear everything he wants to do his fucking her, but he’s trying hard to hide it. “I love you, I married you and what happened in Westeros won’t change it. Even if you would tell me that Joanna is Euron Greyjoy’s daughter...”

“She’s not...”

“I know,” he chuckles. “Even if, I would still love you. I would still be married to you, and I would still think that you are the most beautiful woman in the world...”

Cersei cuts him with a passionate kiss, Tyrion’s letter for now forgotten. When they part, Jaime’s hand has left his sister’s breast in favour of her cheek. The golden one, though, it’s still on her waist. 

“And I’d never loved Brienne.” He whispers. She already knows that: it’s something he had to tell her the very moment he decided to go with Cersei, but he also knows his sister needs to hear it. These words seem always to calm her. She had never been insecure about herself and her appearances but with years passing she’s starting to. Jaime feels guilty about it: him leaving her should have been a turning point, he supposes. 

“I was losing my war, our war,” She replies, and Jaime needs a moment to understand what she’s speaking about. “And he was winning his. We needed allies and a fleet, and he had both. I was the price, and I was ready to pay it.” 

She doesn’t even flinch when she touches the cold golden hand which substitute Jaime's right one. Once she hated him for having let his enemies take it away from him. She was stupid, back in the day, she just caught it too late.

“Power destroyed you...”

“Power destroyed everyone.”

“So, why this madness?” Cersei knows what he’s speaking about.

“The throne belongs to her.” She wants to believe in that. She wants to think that Joanna can be a good queen, better than she was. And she doesn’t even know why it's so important. She had never known.

“Once Daenerys Targaryen will die, yes, it will, but now...” He shakes his head. “Power will destroy her, as well. Just as it killed Myrcella.”

He knows he went too far the moment Cersei rises from his lap and turns at him. Her emerald eyes are stained in coldness and tears. 

“Get out of here!” She screams. “Go out, or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” Cersei is shaking and shivering, and when she curls on herself on the bed, it’s clear she’s sobbing. 

Jaime waits until she calms down and then he sits at her side. He wouldn’t leave her, he knows that no matter what she says, if he goes away when she’s feeling like that she would break down. As it happened when he left for the North. She almost lost their daughter because of it. That was the final demonstration that she loves him. He caresses her shoulder, lightly, just the ghost of a touch, as if he’s trying to remember Cersei that he will never leave her again. 

“I shouldn’t...”

"This doesn’t change the fact that you’re right. My thirst for power is the reason for Myrcella's death.” 

Someone knocks at the door, and Jaime throws a sheet on their naked bodies. The memory of the only time Robert was so close to catching them makes him smile, then Jaime realizes that now all they have to hide is their nudity. He prefers this way.  
Joanna storms in their room followed but half of her maids, golden wavy hair tangled with pearls and seashells as the fashion of Lys and a pale green gown which makes her eyes shine brighter than ever. She’s holding something to her chest as the more precious treasure that she has in the world. When it actually lies at the other side of the Narrow Sea, so close and yet so far. Cersei tries not to think about that.  
Joanna doesn’t know about the deal, nobody but the Lannister siblings does.

“What do you have here, sweetly?” She asks, instead.

“It’s a rare book from Westeros,” She loves to go to the market at the first lights because she always finds the most interesting things. And, most of all, she loves that because sellers aren’t so busy as they are during the day and can tell her stories from the Seven Kingdoms, even the ones her parents never speak about. “It was written by Great Maester Samwell when he still was in the Watch.” Cersei stiffens at Jaime’s side. 

Samwell Tarly… She met him, once, sooner before to leave. And she knows that whatever he had ever write won’t be flattering through their family. She can see her brother’s expression darkening as well. Joanna, if notice that, doesn’t say anything. 

“I know there are a lot of things you don’t want me to know,” She says, though, without even pretending she is speaking about the book. “But I know all the worse, by now, and I don’t care. Or, better, I care but not about what they say about you. What yours… our enemies say. Whatever they say, can't lower you at my eyes. You are my parents, I love you more than anything.”

She smiles, and then she runs out of the room again, following something which ran away from one of her maids’ arms. Cersei would bet that it’s a kitten, but she just rises from the bed and starts to look for some underwear and a gown. 

“You know we don’t deserve such an angel, do you?” Jaime says, smiling all along. Cersei smiles too, even if she doesn’t feel like. She knows Jaime is right, she knew that since the first moment she saw Joffrey, and she always believed she didn't merit any of her children. Listening to that from her brother was heartwarming. Jaime has understood a few things, in being a real father to their daughter and Cersei feels every time guiltier for having forced him not to tell Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen the truth. 

Solely the idea of his face lighting up when Joanna called him Father for the first time made Cersei smile and makes her wish she can give him another child. She should try, at least.  
When she manages to get out of their chambers the hot Lysean air embraces her. The winters are definitely warmer in Essos and Cersei is grateful for that: their house has open aisles which run across two identical internal gardens united by the main building where there are the great hall and the baths. It’s open and airy and remembers to Cersei the dornish palaces but it’s also as far as possible from the Red Keep. And a part of her knows that’s the exact reason why Jaime choose that specific mansion. The other one is that from the rooms in the second garden, where their chambers are, there’s a view of the sea and that reminds them of Casterly Rock.

“My Lady,” A servant girl’s voice stops Cersei the moment she starts to walk for the open hallway. “The answer to your raven has arrived with the tide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sort of cliffhanger, in the next chapter something more will be explained.  
> As always, kudos and comments are appreciate


	3. Chapter II: the taste of revenge is never as sweet as you expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei meets with an old enemy, and news from King's Landing are discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know where to start to apologize for the delay. Hope this chapter will made up for the long waiting.  
> No Jaime or Joanna in this chapter but a character from the books. I just hope to write her in character. Just pretend that, instead of being cut off the show, Doran forced her in exile in Norvos with her mother. As far as Quentyn's matter is concerned, it happened exacly what happenes in the books.  
> I just hated how they treated the Dornish storyline and tried to fix it for what I could.

Cersei smiles and nods. Jaime told her he will break his feast later, because he has some letters to write, probably addressed to Tyrion or Bronn; she doesn’t care, the only person she had ever been jealous of was Brienne, and Cersei knows he won’t leave her anymore, or she wanted to believe him when he has sworn that in front a septon.  
She would freak out because she has eyes, she knows that she doesn't look as beautiful as she used to. 

_Every woman would like to sleep with him without a second thought... Me, though..._ She tries to rip that thought away like she always does, but it has deep roots. Jaime won’t ever understand her if she would confess him which her fears are. But he can't even understand why she’s doing what she’s doing. And that's the reason why her brother doesn't have to know who she meets. 

“I’ll meet her in the baths," She orders. “If Lord Jaime or my daughter ask for me, tell them I left the house.” 

The servant girl bows and goes back for where she comes from. Cersei takes her good time to reach the baths, and when she arrives, Arianne Martell is already there. 

“Exile suits you well, Lady Cersei.” She says, mocking. She’s floating in one of the pools, dark hair soaked with water, her body arched like a cat. Her amber skin shines in the light of the candles. Through the water, Cersei can see that it’s soft and smooth; her full lips are curled in a smile with no joy in it. Arianne Martell looks like the youth in flesh and blood. 

“And so does with you, Princess Arianne.”

Arianne scoffs. While Cersei chose exile over her daughter’s death, the other woman had been forced by her father when Oberyn perished in King’s Landing. Though, she’s still smiling, tempting, scaring. Her smile remembers Cersei the princess’s uncle, also the eyes are the same. 

“My mother is from Norvos,” She says, almost to hide the fact that her cousins took her lands and killed her younger brother in order to obtain a revenge which brought all of them in their graves. Thanks to the woman who is standing in front of her. “Though, if voices about the nobles bleaching their hair here are true, you might have choose the right Free City.” 

She continues, a moment later. Then she disappears underwater for a moment before lifting herself out of the pool. The water rivers down her body before she covers it with a pale silk gown and Cersei finds herself staring. She used to have a body as Arianne’s, once. 

“I’ll stay as far as possible from your lord husband, my lady,” She says, without even turning at her despite Cersei knowing she’s smiling all over again. “Even if it’s well known that the Kingslayer prefers blonde women.” 

“I would feel terribly sorry if after your journey from Norvos everything we will do is bother each other with court gossip,” Cersei decides, a moment later. She isn’t pleased by the presence of the dornish princess in her house even if she knows it’s necessary and the last thing she wants to speak about is who are the person her brother wants to bed. As far as she is concerned, it must be just her. As Jaime is the only one that she loves. “Have you heard the news from Westeros?”

“The ones about the Imp wanting your head? It may have happened that I have seen your face plastered all over Norvos.” Again that damned problem. She has to take care of it, eventually, even if, for the moment, having paid the governor for keeping her presence there hidden at the rest of the world provided enough. 

“No, the ones about the bitch being pregnant.” 

At that, Arianne turns at her. The soft silk does a very poor job in hiding her curves, and Cersei really hopes Jaime won’t decide to go to the baths and not only because he doesn’t have to know about that specific meeting of Cersei. 

“It’s old news. Last time I’ve heard of it, you had been the one who gave birth,” she says. “I have spies among the Dothraki. Most of them followed Daenerys across the Narrow Sea, but the ones who stayed back did it because she is cursed.”

Cersei has no idea why Arianne Martell should have spies among barbarians from a land she doesn’t care about, but Cersei has spies all over the Westeros so it’s not like she can ask. The truth is that she doesn’t even care about Arianne’s reasons. “I trust the person from whom this news came.”

“That just proves you are really turned mad as they used to say,” Arianne turns her eyes to one of the flames in the room as if she’s following her own thoughts. “Maybe the dragon spawn it’s stronger than curses. Though, I don’t understand why it should bother you enough to ask for my help.”

Cersei knows the moment she tells Arianne her reasons there is no coming back. “Do you used to have spies in King’s Landing?”

“Not as many as I wish I had.” 

“Have you ever met her?” Cersei has to ask. She knows it’s not the best moment, and she knows that she should have been surer about the supposed Daenery’s pregnancy before summoning Arianne, but the timing had never been one of her merits. “Myrcella.” 

She says before Arianne can ask about who is she speaking about. Even telling her name hurts and Cersei has no idea which answers she should hope for. 

“I saw your daughter, once. Before my uncle left for the Capital. I didn’t speak with her long enough to tell you which her nature was, though I would have made her queen if I had the opportunity. She was, according to the dornish law.” Arianne’s voice is almost so low that Cersei can easily say she is speaking about something else. In Cersei’s mind, everything she can hear are Maggy the Frog’s words. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I avenged her.” Still, she can’t even think about her sweet girl and every time she looks at Joanna she sees Myrcella at her side as well. Her older daughter looked way more similar to Joanna than Tommen ever did to Joffrey.

“You have killed the people responsible for her death. It’s different,” Arianne is looking at something Cersei can’t see. “My father and my uncle tried all their lives long to avenge Princess Elia. Oberyn died in the attempt, and the man who raped her died as well. My father wrote to Norvos, once he understood that. Elia is avenged, he wrote, the Mountain died, though I lost another sibling, and now there is no one I can blame for it. You killed Tyene and Ellaria, and you can call it however you want, it didn’t give your daughter back, and it didn’t extinguish your pain.”

Cersei knows Arianne is right. And maybe that’s the reason why she loathes the princess so much. She has always thought her feelings were well kept, hidden under her marble-like expression. She has the proof they are not. “You want your throne back, you want a crown on your head and I can’t blame you for that. I want my lands back as well and my title. I want Sunspear and the Water Gardens and everything that belongs to me.” 

“I don't want back the throne for myself,” Cersei says. She looks at Arianne’s face. For a moment, her dark eyes go blank, her wrath seems the only thing which shines through them. Cersei can understand her too well. Being forced to exile, her birthright stolen by her uncle’s mistress and then given to a crown in front of which she never bowed. Dornish men had always been prideful people, and dornish women are as well. They aren't natural allies, Martells and Lannisters had never been allies in history, though they want the same thing and this can work as well. Maybe she doesn’t have to tell her about the deal.

“The girl… She still has a claim,” Arianne realizes. “It’s as good as Daenerys’s was when Robert was the king on the Iron Throne. You want my help to put your daughter on the Iron Throne, and you will give me back the title of Princess of Dorne. That’s why I am here, isn’t it?”

Cersei nods. “I need allies.”

“But if the Queen gives birth to an heir, your daughter’s claim will be weaker and weaker,” Arianne is walking around the pools, thinking at the next words she’s going to say. “I’ll help you. I’ll summon people I know are loyal to me and were loyal to my brother Quentyn who had been killed by the Targaryen’s dragons, and I can ask for more detailed news about the Daenerys’s wellbeing to my spies in King’s Landing. But that’s all I can do.”

A part of Cersei knows that this is even more than what she expected from this meeting. Somehow, it's like Arianne's seek for revenge matches Cersei's. She wants it, she wants retribution for her lands and her father and her brothers, and she can call it however she wants, but it’s still vengeance that she’s looking for.


	4. chapter III: and you'll look at your mistakes and make them all again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei and Jaime speak about King's Landing and they found themselves in disagreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst-ish chapter, but they speak about a lot of things feat a super short mention to Joanna Senior because I love her. 
> 
> I know I'm terrible with the updates of this fic, but I'm being busy with my dissertation and with being in the dark hell of another fandom, but still. I'm still working on this, I have another ~~spicy~~ chapter already written for this fic + the King's Landing excursus and then it'll officially be a WIP.  
>  I could promise to be faster with the next update, but I know I won't.

They divide after having decided a method by which communicate and then Cersei goes back in the garden, looking for Jaime. She finds him on the huge balcony above the sea. He’s fencing against a young guard and from the bruises she can spot on the lad’s shoulders, he’s definitely as comfortable as it was with his right hand even with his left, by now. The moment she walks on the balcony, the young man turns to look at her and Jaime disarms him, the training sword slitting on the marble floor. 

“Sweet sister,” He gathers her. “I should have brought you in war long time ago, if this is what your beauty is capable of.” He grins and the lad rushes inside understanding that Jaime’s is a rebuke toward him. Cersei smiles as well, even if hers is more malicious.  
She pushes her body against Jaime’s and closes her eyes. Jaime’s hand lets his sword dropping on the floor and disappears in her hair. “What’s wrong, Cersei?”

She looks at him, almost mesmerized by how easily Jaime can read her. She promised him no more secrets between them, though she can’t help but plotting. It’s her nature; she wants everything and while she wants Jaime more having him it’s not enough to placate her thirst for power. She tried, for eleven years, but she simply can’t. 

“I want to give back to Joanna her throne,” She says, feeling Jaime tending at her side. “I know the deal but if Daenerys should give birth to an heir she might lose it.”

“Would it be so terrible?” He asks. “I want my daughter to be safe and happy. I want her to know what love means and I want to be there for her. I want to be the father I couldn’t be for Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. I want you and this life,” Cersei is not even sure he’s still speaking with her. “Why can’t this be enough for you?”

She has no idea, but it’s not. She loves Jaime; she loves Joanna, she has grown to love Lys too, but it’s not enough. She needs the power, and she needs a crown. She tried so hard not to needing them but the truth is that she does. 

“Yes,” He answers at his own question. “You won’t ever stop plotting, will you? I thought… For gods sake, Cersei, I thought you really understood what was important, but you run just because so you could have someone else to put on that fucking throne.” 

He steps back, away from her. “I won’t ever be enough. You fucked Lancel because you knew that no matter what I would never stop to love you. You fucked Euron Greyjoy in front of me for the very same reason. And they are the ones I know about… And I am the stupidest man in the world because I thought I was enough.”

“You are…” Cersei’s is a whisper. “You are more than enough, you’re everything I always wanted but… I wanted to be the queen, for all my life I dreamt about being the queen and ruling the Seven Kingdoms so that nobody could tell me that loving you was wrong. And I had been, and it was horrible but you were at my side and people bowed in front of me…” She finds hard to fight her tears but she has a life of experience in doing that. “And for once I could decide on my life. Without threats, without fears.”

“I fought with ser Barristan and the White Bull, do you think they were never afraid of something?” She has no idea why he’s asking but she shakes her head. “Do you know what Arthur Dayne told me, once? You know who’s not afraid? Our king isn’t. And not because he has a crown upon his head but because the raw of the flames made him deaf to the fear.” She knows what he’s saying. She can understand his words, but she knows it’s not enough. 

“I’ve lost my children; I’ve lost you, I’ve lost the throne. Everything I cared about… And now I have you and Joanna and I can have the power back. I won’t give up, Jaime.”

“I’ll always be by your side, but you have better to think about which path you are taking, Cersei, and how far are you dispose to walk on it.” She understands that he’s faking the defeating tone in his voice. He won’t follow her to her own destruction, and of that, Jaime is sure. He’ll be going to save her way before she has put that very same ideas in Joanna’s mind. 

“Mother was right. I dreamt of her.” He says, he has never told this to anyone. He dreamt of people thrice in his life. The first was Cersei seating on the Iron Throne, then he dreamt of Brianne out of guilt when he left her with Bolton’s men at Harrenhal and then he dreamt of their mother. He remembers of these three dreams as if they really happened.  
Cersei looks at him, and her eyes are wide in surprise. 

“She was crying, and, at first, I thought she was you. She was so beautiful. I told her that father succeed in his plans, that you were queen and I was Captain of the Kingsguard, and she… She said she would have brought us as far as possible from the Capital, if she should be still alive…” His voice cracks, and he feels Cersei hugging him while she’s still cooler than that morning. “I won’t make father’s mistake, if I can. If you love me, help me to keep Joanna as far as possible from that damned throne. I sit on it once and look where it brought us.”

Cersei shakes her head. “I can’t promise you that, Jaime. But I’ll wait, for the love I bear for you. Though, if the bitch gives birth…”

“If she does, I’ll be by your side.” He says, he doesn’t sound convinced, but he knows it’s the best he can hope from Cersei and at least he gained some moon turns if not years. He tries not to think about the fact that in this short they could be again in war and kisses Cersei, dragging her back inside.

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first lenguage so if there's something I have to change, just let me know and I'll edit it (=  
> Come and say hello on Tumblr, I'm myrxellabaratheon


End file.
